Tomorrow I’m scheduled to have my face ripped apart for mistakes I made as a teenager. (OK, so I’m exaggerating a little.) I am not looking forward to it, not one bit.
I’m scheduled to be there at 9:45. And it can take anywhere from 3 to 7 hours. Judging by the size of my spot, I’m hoping it’s just 3. The weird thing about MOHs, and the reason that it takes so long, is a patient remains on the premises until every last piece of cancerous tissue is removed. MOHs is often done on the face because it’s best to not have too much skin removed, at the same time they don’t want to leave any of it there and possibly make for another procedure.
Here’s what my day will look like: I will be numb. They’ll remove a layer, take it to the lab (on-site), I’ll go into the waiting area, read, knit, whatever, while they run tests to find out if that particular layer is cancerous or not. If it is, they remove another layer. This continues until the labs comes back showing no signs of cancer. There’s really no way of knowing how long this will take. And it’s a little disconcerting that my first real time spent away from Emory will be spent having my face carved into.
Ah, pregnancy. Next up, I check and see why all of my joints ache and I have trouble walking in the morning.
The good news is, I am 2 pounds lighter today than I was five days ago.
Part of NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month), where one writes every day for the month of November, which is easier said than done.
Mihow 
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